Scratch That Itch
by shelly.hoffer.7
Summary: Winner of the 2015 Profiler Choice Award: 'Best One-Shot'. Like other writers, I have to put out my take on what could happen after that incredibly amazing episode: Mr. Scratch.


***Warning: the following may be too disturbing for some readers. Proceed with caution. **

When Rossi had run into that room and found Hotch sitting on the floor, his heart had broken. Hotch looked more like a scared little puppy that had been beaten and abused since it could walk than the formidable Unit Chief that he was, and Rossi had to fight the urge to draw him to his chest and smother him in a protective embrace that would show him that he was safe. As it was, he knelt down and comforted him in the best way he could at the moment.

Once they were done at the scene, Rossi had taken Hotch home with him after making sure Jessica could keep Jack, and they had spent the rest of the night in Rossi's den. While drinking from a very old and very expensive bottle of scotch, Rossi had gotten Hotch to finally open up and tell him about everything that had happened, and Rossi's heart broke a little more at the tears streaming down Hotch's face as he described what Peter Lewis had made him see. By the end, Hotch had drunk a lot more than Rossi, but Rossi thought that Hotch might actually be able to sleep peacefully.

He was wrong; Hotch's screams woke him up a few hours later. He ran to Hotch's room and held him to his chest as he stroked his hair, and Rossi had to fight back tears. His heart was hurting for the man he loved like a son. "You're ok, you're ok. I got you," he kept repeating until he calmed down some. After kissing him on the head, he pushed him away enough to look him in the eyes. "You alright?"

Hotch sniffed and wiped his face. "I'm fine." He ducked his head down. "I'm sorry."

"Stop. Damn, Aaron, if you didn't have nightmares, I'd be worried."

Hotch swallowed and nodded as he pushed his way out of the blankets and stood. "I'm fine. Go back to bed."

"What are you doing?" Rossi asked him as he stood up and moved back to allow the man some space.

"I need a drink. Go. I'm fine," he insisted.

Rossi appraised him and saw how hard his heart was still pounding and he was still breathing heavily, but he also knew Hotch liked to process things on his own, so he nodded and moved back to allow Hotch away from the bed. "You know where I am if you need me."

Hotch gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Dave, for everything."

Rossi's heart clenched because he knew the smile had been forced, but he gave Hotch's arm a fatherly squeeze and went back to his bedroom.

XXX

The next day, Hotch went home. He had taken two days off, or rather two days of strongly suggested personal leave by Cruz had made him take two days off, and he looked around the empty house and sighed. Jack was at school and the house was way too quiet for him at the moment so he headed to his stereo and the classic rock that melted out of the speakers made him feel not quite so alone.

After taking a nap and having another horrible nightmare, Hotch talked to Jessica and she had agreed to keep Jack one more night. He did not want Jack to hear his screams or his cries because he was pretty sure another nightmare was just waiting for him to close his eyes so it could pull him back into the hell that Peter Lewis had created in his own mind.

He ran a hand through his hair and eyed his liquor cabinet and then sighed. _You can't drink it away, Hotchner. Man up and face it!_ He took a couple deep breaths and then went and took a shower hoping that it would help him feel a little more like himself.

Once he was done, he flopped down on the couch and dropped his head into his hands. As the whole thing ran through his mind again, he felt panic edging its way towards the surface and he stood up. _Stop it, Hotchner! _ When tears started stinging the backs of his eyes and a sob caught in his throat, he knew he couldn't make it stop, so he flopped back down on the couch and just let it all out.

He wasn't sure how long he had sat there, but he came back to full awareness when he heard a key in the door. He wiped his face and was surprised to find it dry, and he stood up and turned towards the door as Rossi walked in.

He grinned. "I'm glad to see you up and about," he told him as he made his way to the kitchen and sat a couple bags down on the counter.

"What's this?" Hotch asked as he followed him.

"Dinner, obviously," he joked as he pulled groceries out of the bag and started sitting them down.

"I'm not. . ." Hotch started but paused with the look Rossi shot him.

"Exactly what have you eaten today, Aaron?"

Hotch licked his lips and stood up tall. "I had some coffee for breakfast."

"And it's almost six o'clock!"

Hotch's eyes shot to the clock on the wall and he winced. He hadn't realized the whole day had past.

"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron," Rossi uttered as he shook his head. "I am going to fix us dinner, and you are going to eat it. Understand?"

Hotch sighed. "Yes, Sir."

Rossi smiled. "That's my boy."

After eating a wonderful Italian meal and just chit chatting about this and that, Rossi ushered Hotch back into his family room and poured them both a drink. "So, how are you, really?" he asked him as he handed him a tumbler.

Hotch took a deep breath and then half shrugged. "Alright, I guess. I. . . I'm actually not really sure to tell you the truth."

Rossi nodded as sympathetic eyes searched Hotch's. "That's understandable." He took a sip of his drink and then put a supporting hand on Hotch's closest thigh. "Anything I can help with?" Hotch's deep sigh made Rossi's heart clench and he nudged the younger man. "Come on, Aaron. You know talking about it will help."

Hotch took a long swig and then nodded. "I know, but. . ." He sighed again and then stood up and moved away from the couch. "I know what he made me see wasn't real. It was horrifying, but it wasn't real. Everyone is alright." He ran a hand along the back of his neck. "But. . . I. . . I almost. . ." He bit back the sob that was creeping up his throat and took a shuddering breath. "He wanted me to kill you all."

"And you didn't. You beat him," Rossi quickly put in.

"But. . ."

"But nothing, Aaron! Just like Kenderman didn't kill his son out of love, your love for your team allowed you to overcome the drugs."

"I was holding my gun! It was pointing at the door you all were about to come through!"

Rossi got up and grabbed Hotch's face with both hands and locked eyes with him. "And you turned and shot at him instead! You beat him!"

The doubt in Hotch's eyes made Rossi's stomach hurt as much as his heart, and Hotch wilted. "Did I?"

Rossi frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hotch moved back to the couch and waited for the older man to take his seat again. "Morgan told me what Lewis said." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as his face showed his fear. "What did he do to me that I can't remember?"

"Aaron. . ."

Hotch shook his head roughly as he stood up again. "No, Dave. We both know that scopolamine takes away memories. I remember what he wanted me to remember, but what did he do or say or have me tell him that I can't remember?"

Rossi's heart clenched even more at the fear growing in Hotch's eyes, and he couldn't blame him because he was starting to feel the same way. None of them had thought about that, and remembering what Lewis had done to to his other victims came slamming into Rossi's mind, but he pushed those thoughts away.

"My God, Dave, he could have done anything to me!"

Rossi stood up and put his hands on Hotch's shoulders. "You're right, but you'll never know, so why beat yourself up over it?"

Hotch's eyes darted around as he thought about it. "Maybe I should talk to him. Maybe I could get him. . ."

Rossi shook his head roughly as he took a step back. "No!"

"But maybe. . ."

"No, Aaron!" He took a deep breath and pushed Hotch back down into his seat on the couch and then knelt down in front of him. "Maybe he did do something, maybe he did say something, maybe he got you to tell him something that you normally wouldn't tell anyone else, and all he wants to do is screw with you again! You don't know what he'll do!"

"But I won't be drugged. I. . . He couldn't. . ." He wilted even more. "Jesus, Dave," he muttered and then dropped his head into his hands. "I'm scared."

Rossi's chest threatened to close in on itself, but he forced his own fear down and moved to sit beside Hotch and wrapped a tender arm around him. "I know, Aaron, and that's ok." He gave him a squeeze and then reached and took his chin to make him look at him. "But you will get through this."

Hotch huffed.

"You will!"

Hotch took a deep breath and then nodded.

"But you must promise me that you will not speak to him again!"

Hotch looked at him and huffed again. "I can't do that, Dave, and you know it. I'm the only victim who can positively identify him. You and I both know I will have to be at his trial."

Rossi mentally growled knowing that Hotch was right. He licked his lips. "Then at least promise me you will not see or speak to him until that ever happens."

He took a deep breath and blew it out and then nodded. "Ok."

Rossi's brows rose wanting more.

"I promise."

Rossi smiled as he tussled his hair. "That's my boy."

XXX

It took Hotch a few days before the nightmares started waning off, and a little over a week before he really felt better. It took a little more time to really get back to normal on cases and around the team. When he first went back to work, every time he looked at one of the teams' faces his mind would bring back the vision of them getting shot down and his heart would skip a beat, but he got over that, too.

One case led to another and that led to even another, and before he knew it, a couple months had past.

One morning he got to work to find a letter from the Maryland State DA. He took a deep breath and opened it expecting to find a summons to court, but he frowned as he read it. He shook his head and then read it again. The DA wanted to let Hotch know that Lewis had been killed in prison and there wouldn't be a trial.

A shaky hand dropped the letter down onto his desk and he leaned back in his seat as he sucked in air. He hadn't even realized he had been holding his breath, but as his heart moved back into a normal rhythm, a smiled tugged at the corners of his mouth. _I guess I can keep that original promise after all._

Rossi went into Hotch's office and saw the look on his face and chuckled as he sat down. "What's got you so happy this morning?"

Hotch startled when Rossi had started speaking because he hadn't realized he had come in, and that made Rossi laugh even harder. Hotch took a deep breath, sat up, and handed Rossi the letter. "Guess I won't have to worry about seeing Peter Lewis after all."

Rossi took the letter and sat back to read it, and Hotch wouldn't bet his life on it, but he was pretty sure he saw a ghost of a smile cross Rossi's lips as he read it. Once he was done, he folded the letter back up and handed it back to Hotch. "Well, I can't say that I'm heart broken. It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

Hotch huffed, but a small smile emerged onto his face, too, as he put the letter away.

Eventually, he stopped thinking about Lewis completely.

XXX

About four months later, Hotch and the team were working with the LAPD to track done a serial killer who preyed on little boys. The case was hitting Hotch and JJ pretty hard as all cases involving kids did, but Rossi worried about Hotch even more than JJ. The unsub wasn't a sexual sadist, he wasn't sexually assaulting them or anything, he was actually beating the kids to death with his own hands, and the fear that ghosted itself across Hotch's face as he examined the bodies told Rossi that Hotch was thinking about his own past, so he vowed to keep an extra close eye on him.

Once they identified the unsub, a Mr. Larry Kerns, Garcia got busy tracking him down. As the team's SUVs careened towards the man's address, they got a call from the locals saying that they were in a high speed chase with the suspect all the way across town, so Hotch made a g-force causing U-turn with Morgan following suit and they sped through traffic hoping and praying that they didn't lose the man.

Before they got there, though, it came through on the radio that the man had bailed out of the car and they were in a foot pursuit. Garcia tried to reroute them so they could get ahead of the man, but the locals radioed that he had gone into an abandoned warehouse. "Tell them to stay back and just lock down the exits," Hotch ordered, and Garcia relayed the message as Hotch hit the gas.

Once the team spilled out onto the sidewalk, a sergeant went up to Hotch. "There are three exits, four floors, and God knows how many rooms. You want to wait for SWAT?"

"With as old as this building is, there could also be a basement or tunnels under it connecting it to the sewer," Reid pointed out.

Hotch considered the dark building ahead of him and then looked at his team. He could tell none of them wanted to wait and give the child killer a chance to slip away, so he took a deep breath and drew his weapon. "No. I want your men to keep watch on the exits, and we'll go in and get him."

The sergeant nodded and Hotch looked at his team. "Morgan, Kate, you two take the east exit; JJ, Reid, you two take the south; and Rossi and I will take the west. Keep in contact and watch each other's backs." They all nodded and went to their perspective places to search for the man who had killed seven boys.

Hotch made his way through the building slowly. His tactical flashlight was no match for the blackness within the confines of the walls as its beam seemed to be absorbed by the gloomy atmosphere. He took a deep breath and tried to fight back the shudder that wanted to run down his back, and he wasn't even sure why the darkness was bothering him so much, but it was.

Rossi sensed his friend's hesitation and put a supportive hand on his back to assure him he wasn't alone, and Hotch actually startled. "Jesus Christ, Aaron. Calm down," he whispered.

Hotch shot him an apologetic look and nodded as he took another deep breath.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine," Hotch tried to assure him but the weakness of his voice even bothered him so he knew Rossi wasn't going to believe him.

"Let me go first," Rossi insisted.

Hotch swallowed and then nodded as he stepped to the side and gave the older man a look of thanks as he moved past him. He moved to follow him and kept an eye behind them. _Damn it, Hotchner! What the hell is wrong with you? Get a grip!_

After going through several more rooms, Hotch spun when he heard something behind him. When his flashlight centered on several rats chewing on something unrecognizable, he shook his head and jumped to catch up with Rossi, but before he could take two steps, everything went black.

Rossi turned as soon as he heard the grunt escape Hotch, and his flashlight caught Hotch going down but he also saw their unsub standing behind him. "Freeze!" he yelled as he leveled his gun at him, but the unsub took off down the adjoining hall. Rossi got off one shot, but he missed and he cussed himself as he ran to Hotch's side.

A sigh of relief escaped him when he felt Hotch's pulse beating out a steady rhythm, and a quick once over of the fallen man revealed a bump and a cut to the back of his head that didn't look too bad, so he relaxed even more as he grabbed his comm link. "Hotch is down and Kerns is on the second floor," he told everyone else.

"Do you need a medic?" came Garcia's voice.

"Go ahead and call for one, but I think he's just been knock out. Calm down," Rossi assured her as his eyes went to the hallway. He could tell the unsub was still there. He wasn't sure what Kerns had hit Hotch with, but whatever it was it wouldn't be a match for Rossi's pistol.

"You got eyes on Kerns?" Morgan's voice asked him.

"Not yet," Rossi told him and then looked at Hotch. After a brief argument within himself, he stood up. He knew if Hotch was awake, Hotch would want him to go after Kerns, so he kissed his fingertips and then pressed them to Hotch's head. "I'll be back, Aaron," he whispered and then went in search of the child killer.

After God knows how long, Hotch moaned as he started making his way back towards consciousness, and when the comm link in his ear went off he flinched.

"The suspect is out the west side!" a male voice yelled. "No, scratch that, it's not him!"

"What? I didn't copy that," a female voice responded.

"Scratch that, it's not him. I repeat: scratch that, it's not him."

Every time the word scratch was repeated, Hotch flinched and when he actually opened his eyes he gasped; he was sitting in Dr. Regan's study. _No!_ He tried to move, but he couldn't. When he felt breath on his neck, his eyes trailed to the side and Peter Lewis was squatted down next to him.

"So losing your team is your worst nightmare, huh?" He laughed as he moved even closer. "That's nice and all, but what about your greatest childhood fear, Aaron. Were you afraid of Mr. Scratch, too? Who was your boogeyman?"

Hotch slammed his eyes shut. "No!"

"What do you see, Aaron. Who is scaring you?"

"No! Daddy, please!" Hotch begged as he cried and held up his arms to protect his head.

"Ohhhhh," Lewis drew out. "Your father hurts you, doesn't he, Aaron?"

Hotch nodded as he tried to ball himself up. "All the time," he uttered.

An evil chuckle escaped Lewis as he got right next to Hotch's ear. "He's coming back, Aaron. He's going to hurt you again unless you stop him."

"No! Please no!" Hotch whimpered as he shook.

"You can stop him, you have a gun. Open your eyes and take care of your childhood fear, Aaron."

And Hotch's eyes snapped open. He sucked in air as he realized he was alone and in the complete dark. _He won't find me this time. I hid too good this time,_ he tried to tell himself as he sat up, scooted next to the wall, drew his knees up, and gripped the gun in his hand even tighter.

"Rossi?" Morgan called out as he made his way through the dark building hoping that he and Kate could at least help their Unit Chief if not find their unsub.

Hotch saw the beams of light and drew himself into the corner even more. _No!_ The only thing he could hear was his father's voice getting closer.

"Dave?" Kate called out as she looked down a hall. When her flashlight caught a glimpse of someone, she halted her forward movement. "Morgan," she whispered as she reached for his arm.

He turned and looked down the hall and his heart skipped a beat. "Hotch?" he called out and they both went towards him.

By the time they got half way down the hall, Kate couldn't breathe when she heard the gunshots and saw Morgan going down. When she rushed to him and saw that it was indeed Hotch who was pointing his gun at them, she held up her hand. "Hotch! It's us!" she yelled, and the last thing she saw was the muzzle flash as another bullet left Hotch's gun.

JJ and Reid took off running when they had heard the gunfire. Multiple shots could only mean bad news and they both silently prayed that the rest of the team was alright.

When Hotch heard more yelling, he cringed back against the wall. _No! He's dead! _More yelling caused him to whimper and to hide even further in the corner. _No he's not! He's coming back! I have to stop him!_

Reid came skidding to a stop as light caught his eye down a long hallway. The flashlight lying on the floor showed something lying next to it, but it was turned to far away for Reid to really see what it was, so he and JJ held their guns ready and slowly moved down the hall.

As soon as Reid's flashlight glanced over Morgan's legs, JJ gasped. "No!" she screamed and ran forward.

Reid tried to stop her by grabbing her arm. "No, JJ!" he screamed but she shook him loose.

She went to her knees as her flashlight searched her friend's body, and when her hands felt something warm and sticky, she cried. "Oh God, n. . ." She never got to finish the lament as more gunfire erupted from further down the hall.

Reid readied his gun, but when his flashlight showed Hotch, he froze. Even his genius brain couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, and he never got the chance to figure it out as Hotch fired again.

Rossi, who had caught up with the unsub and had ended up shooting him to protect himself, went back in search of the rest of the team. He couldn't understand what all of the shooting was about and when he'd tried desperately to raise each and every member on the comm link, he realized with disgust that his had been damaged in his fight with Kerns. So he made his way through the silent building, and each second that past, the more his worry grew.

When he got to the hall where he knew he had left Hotch, his heart jumped into his throat. The whole team was lying on the ground and with the positions they were in and the blood pooling around them, Rossi knew that they were dead, and he was suddenly scared that Kerns had had a partner. He couldn't move, though, all he could do was stare at the carnage before him.

He was finally pulled from his frozen spot when he heard soft whimpers, and his flashlight moved over the team as he moved forward all the while hoping and praying that someone, at least one of them, was left alive. That's when his flashlight caught a glimpse of shoes over in the corner. When he angled his light upward, his heart almost stopped. "Hotch?" he asked quietly as he made his way over and around the limbs of his fallen teammates, his friends, his family.

When his light shined on Hotch's face, Hotch squinted his eyes shut and squeezed the trigger again.

Rossi flinched and then exhaled as he realized that Hotch's gun was empty, and it suddenly hit him what had happened. _Oh my God, Aaron, what have you done?_

He swallowed hard and took another step forward. "Hotch?"

Hotch squeezed the trigger again, and again, and again as he started to cry. "No! Stay away!"

The terror in Hotch's voice ripped through Rossi's soul and he forced himself take another step. "It's ok, Hotch," Rossi tried as he moved even closer, but he didn't think Hotch even heard him as he was still pulling the trigger over and over again.

Rossi took a deep breath and moved all the way to his friend and knelt down in front of him. "Aaron?" That made Hotch flinch, so Rossi kept going. "Aaron, can you hear me?" he asked as tenderly as he could as he reached out with a slow hand and took the pistol from Hotch.

When Hotch's eyes locked with his, he blinked and they finally focused and he suddenly reached out and latched onto Rossi. "I killed him. He kept hurting me, so I had to killed him," he cried into Rossi's shoulder.

Rossi wrapped his arms around the trembling man. "Who? Who did you kill, Aaron?"

Hotch cried even harder. "My father," blurted out through sobs.

And Rossi's insides turn to ice and he couldn't breathe.

Rossi's shirt was getting wet as it absorbed Hotch's tears. "He said I had to kill him. Had to or he'd keep hurting me," he cried even harder.

Rossi forced himself to inhale and then pushed Hotch away enough to look at him. "Who told you, Aaron?"

Hotch gasped for air and the fear in his eyes cut Rossi to the bone, but Hotch looked at him and his bottom lip was trembling. "The boogey man, Mr. Scratch." His eyes trailed to the fallen people in the hallway beyond. "I killed him, so he can't hurt me anymore, right? I don't want to be hurt anymore," he got about before his sobs became so hard he couldn't speak and Rossi pulled him back to his chest.

"No, Aaron, he can't hurt you anymore. Shhh, you're safe now. I got you," Rossi told him as he stroked his hair.

Hotch pushed away from him and wiped his face. "You promise?"

Rossi quickly nodded. "Yes. I promise."

"Don't tell my mom, please!" he begged.

And Rossi again lost the ability to breathe as his heart dropped into his stomach. _His mom? Oh my God, no!_ When Hotch looked about ready to start bawling again, Rossi grabbed his shoulders and shook his head. "I won't, not if you tell me something."

Hotch frowned as he wilted. "What?"

Rossi opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't quite form the words as everything started to click into place in his mind. Peter Lewis, Mr. Scratch, what had happened to Christine McNeil, the way Hotch was acting, the way Hotch was speaking, even the tenor of Hotch's voice had changed had become higher, and it all came slamming into him and he had to fight the urge to get sick. He swallowed back the massive lump that was forming in his throat and forced a small smile. "How old are you, Aaron?"

"Twelve," Hotch whined as massive tears formed in his eyes again up thinking he had done something wrong.

_No!_ Rossi wanted to scream, but he nodded and pulled Hotch back to him. "It's ok, Aaron. It's ok, Son," he assured him with quiet words as he rubbed circles on his back trying to get him to calm down.

As Hotch fought to get control of himself, Rossi's mind raced to try and figure out what he should do, how he could help the man in his arms, and he drew on his many years of experience to quickly formulate a plan and he pushed Hotch away from him and held his face in gentle hands. After a second, Rossi bit his lips and then sucked in a deep breath. "Do you know who I am, Aaron?"

Hotch frowned as his eyes searched the older man's and then he cringed. "No."

Rossi had to bite back another sob, but he gave him a small smile. "That's ok. My name is David Rossi, but you can call me Dave."

"Ok."

Rossi searched the serious brown eyes staring back at him and even though he could see the scared child hiding behind them, he could also see the eyes of the man whom he had come to love, and he swallowed hard. "Do you think you can trust me, Aaron? You seem like a really good judge of character."

Hotch's eyes darted around as he thought about it and then stilled and locked with Rossi's for a few seconds. "Uh-huh," he offered.

"Good, because you can, and it's going to be ok, Aaron, but we have to do a couple things," Rossi started and then the sound of approaching sirens made Hotch jump.

"They're gonna take me away, aren't they?"

Rossi quickly shook his head. "No!" he started and when his exclamation made Hotch half jump out of his skin, he took a deep breath to calm himself back down. "No, Aaron, I'm going to take care of you, but you have to help me do a few things, can you do that? Can you help me, Aaron?"

Hotch nodded as he chewed on his lower lip. "Uh-huh."

"Good, Boy," Rossi started and then stood up. "You're going to help me do a few things in here, and then people are going to come in here, Aaron, a lot of people, and they are going to ask you a lot of questions," he started as he pulled the younger man to his feet. "But I don't want you to answer them. I don't even want you to say a word to anyone but me. In fact, I don't want you even looking at anyone. Just stare at the floor and act like you can't even hear them. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Hotch's eyes showed his confusion, but he really didn't want to talk to anyone anyway, so he nodded. "Yeah."

Rossi gave him a grin and pat him on the back. "That's a good boy. Now come on," he told him as he wrapped on arm around him and steered him down the hall away from the team.

XXX

Hotch sat in the back of an ambulance clutching a blanket around his shoulders as he stared at his feet. A medic was sitting close by; he had checked Hotch over, cleaned his head wound, and had tried to get Hotch to say something, anything, but then finally gave up. As he filled out his paperwork, severe shock would be his main diagnosis.

Section Chief Cruz shook his head as he got to the scene. "Jesus Christ, Rossi! What the hell happened?" he demanded to know.

Rossi took a deep breath as tears filled his eyes. "It's all my fault, Matt. I. . . God I. . ."

Cruz put his hands on Rossi's shoulders and leaned down and locked eyes with the seasoned agent. "Calm down, Dave. It's not your fault." He waited for Rossi to take a deep breath and collect himself and then let him go after squeezing his shoulder. "Just tell me what happened."

Rossi stood up tall as he drew in a long breath. "Hotch and I breached this entrance and started our search. After a while, our unsub came up behind us and knocked Hotch out. I turned when I heard it, and I saw him, but my shot missed. After checking Hotch and knowing that he was basically alright, I took off after Kerns." He paused and took another deep breath. "But I lost him," he uttered and then ran a hand down his face. "I guess. . . I guess he'd circled back and went back to Hotch. I didn't think he'd go back there! I thought he would be safe!" He broke down crying and Cruz wrapped his arm around him to try and bring him some comfort. "And. . . And I was too late." He brought up tear filled eyes and looked at the Section Chief. "As I came around the corner, I saw that Kerns had an arm wrapped around Hotch and he was shooting. I saw JJ go down. . . and then. . . then Reid." He sobbed again. "I could make myself react fast enough, Matt! I was too slow! He killed them all before I could stop him!"

Cruz pulled Rossi into a hug and held him tightly. "It's not your fault, Dave," he assured him. "Kerns is responsible, not you!"

After a few moments, Rossi pushed himself away from him and locked eyes with him. "And I shot the son of a bitch, Matt! I didn't even give him a chance to give up. I never even warned him! I just thought about what he had done. . . God! I never even told him I was FBI!"

"Stop it! No one will fault you for that! You did what you had to do to save Hotch, Dave! You did everything you could!"

Rossi shook his head as he cried some more; it wasn't hard to make the tears flow, all he had to do was think about his fallen teammates to really make his story believable. "I shouldn't have ever left Hotch! We shouldn't have split up. I should have. . ."

"No! Now stop it, Dave!" He made Rossi look at him again. "You are not to blame for this David!"

"I will admit my fault to the review board. I will turn in my badge," Rossi started.

Cruz shook his head. "No! Now stop! Get yourself calmed down and get out of here. We can talk more about this later. Once you really analyze it, you will see that you are not to blame."

Rossi wiped his face and took a deep breath. "Maybe," he uttered and then looked towards Hotch.

Cruz followed his gaze and then cringed. He'd already heard about Hotch. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

Rossi sighed and then shrugged. "He saw that bastard shoot down his whole team with his gun." He shook his head in disgust. "Would you be?"

Cruz cringed as he thought about it. "No, probably not." He took a deep breath and pat Rossi on the back. "Get him out of here. You both need time to decompress. I'll call you tomorrow."

Rossi studied him and knew his story had fooled him, and why wouldn't it? The evidence would back him up. He had gotten Hotch to help him pull Kerns' body to the corner and then he had opened a bullet and shook the gun powder over the man's hand and then blew it off knowing that a Gunshot Residue Test would be done on him and the traces of gun powder left on the man's hands would be picked up just like if he had shot a gun. Then all he had to do was make sure Kerns' finger and hand prints were all over Hotch gun. Everyone would surmise that he had attacked Hotch while he was incapacitated and taken his gun, and the wound on Hotch's head backed that up perfectly.

After years of solving crimes, Rossi knew exactly how to stage the perfect crime, and while he hated the reason it had to be done, he did it out of love for the man he thought of as a son. He also figured he would probably go to hell for it, but he hoped that God would understand that his motives were truly benevolent. Besides, Kerns was already dead, it wasn't like he was framing someone for murder just to make them pay the price for it. He also couldn't bring the team back, so he didn't mind blaming someone else for their deaths. All he was concerned about was Hotch. He had to protect him especially with the shape he was in.

As Rossi walked toward the ambulance, he actually hoped that Hotch would never recover. Hotch's mind had reverted him back into the poor, tormented boy he had once been because it knew that Hotch the man could never handle what he had done. Rossi sighed heavily as he stopped at the back of the ambulance. "Come on, Aaron," he said and Hotch actually looked up with the familiar voice. "Let's get out of here," Rossi told him as he held out his arm in invitation.

Hotch swallowed, glanced at the medic, and then scrambled out still clutching the blanket.

The medic shot Rossi a sympathetic look, and Rossi gave him a slight nod as Hotch moved in closer to him. The hunched over shoulders, the way Hotch's eyes kept darting around, the quickness of his breathing, all told Rossi that Aaron the boy was scared, so he wrapped his arm around him and held him close. "It's ok, Aaron. I got you," he assured him and then steered him towards the SUV.

Once Rossi got Hotch in the passenger side, he climbed in the driver's side and looked at him. "I'm taking you home with me, is that ok?"

Hotch nodded slightly. "Uh-huh."

"You'll be safe there, Aaron. No one will ever hurt you again." Hotch's eyes met Rossi's and they searched them, and Rossi reached over and cupped his cheek. "I promise."

That made Hotch half smile. "Thanks, Dave."

Rossi took a deep breath and started the car.

"Dave? Dave!" Hotch yelled as he shook him.

Rossi shot up in his seat as he gasped. "What?!"

"Damn, Calm down. I was just waking you up," Hotch told him as he studied him.

Rossi shook his head and looked around and then he frowned. They were on the jet but they were alone and Rossi's frantic eyes found Hotch's. "Where is everyone?"

"Already on the tarmac. I've been trying to wake you up for over five minutes. Are you ok?"

Rossi ran a hand down his face and studied the man standing in front of him. "Yeah. Just a nightmare, I guess."

Hotch nodded knowingly and held out a hand to help the older man up. "You want to talk about it?" he asked as he grabbed Rossi's bag for him and then gestured to the door.

Rossi swallowed hard as he moved to the exit. "Only if includes a bottle of scotch."

Hotch chuckled. "Jack's at a sleepover, so come on, I'll buy."

Rossi huffed, though, as he went down the steps and mentally smiled when he saw the rest of the team waiting by the SUVs. "I was thinking about an especially good bottle of scotch and my den."

Hotch smiled as he fell into step next to him. "Sounds like a plan, Agent Rossi."

Rossi nodded as he moved to get in the passenger side of the closest vehicle. There was no way in hell he was ever going to tell Hotch about that nightmare, and he'd had plenty of others over the years that he could easily spend the night talking about with the man he loved as a son.

As Hotch drove them towards the parking garage, Rossi looked out at the night sky and thanked God that it had all been just a dream, a horribly, traumatic nightmare, but just a dream. _Please, God, please don't let that ever happen!_


End file.
